


Avengers After Party

by bobduncan



Category: Avengers, Marvel
Genre: Gen, hes forced into living on earth, loki and scott also become friends somehow, loki battles his daddy issues, loki get forced into numerous shitty social gatherings, loki is a little bitch 24/7, loki learns about amy lee, loki tries his best but hes a little shit, parties fucking suck, peter parker and loki friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-26 18:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18184094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobduncan/pseuds/bobduncan
Summary: Thanos is dead. Let’s party!Everyone’s back, not dead, in a good mood. And such a big win required a big party. Or two. Or three. Or ten.Loki is forced to go to every single fucking one of them. And he also has to deal with a parade of superheros on a daily basis.





	Avengers After Party

 Loki thought the demise of the Mad Titan would’ve been more fun. Well, his spectacular end was definitely a treat to witness, but what he was dragged into after was something far worse than any torture he’d been put through. He got considered an Avenger (granted, everyone who was a main helper got a star sticker saying they were an Avenger).

   Loki wasn’t too fond of being apart of an overrated work group that he caused to form, sort of. He didn’t even understand why they called him an Avenger, considering how much precautions they took when talking to him. They’d step back, look around, grab at a weapon. But despite this, he was dragged into staying with them.

   His brother begged and pleaded to be allowed to stay in the Avengers Facility, which was definitely not as interesting as the tower, but he can’t have everything. Loki can’t have anything he wants in general, and he felt that he didn’t deserve it, anyways. Thor had dragged Loki along to a party to celebrate the win.

   Loki wasn’t particularly fond of social events, and he definitely wasn’t in a party mood. Everyone hated him, his mother was dead, his home was gone, and he had just faked his death, and 3/4 of those things happened in the past few weeks.

   Music was blaring, lights were flashing, and partygoers’ voices were loud, incoherent blabber. Thor had been chatting with numerous Midgardians, flowing from conversation to conversation. Stark was being as outgoing as seemed. Everyone seemed to be having a fantastic time.

   And there was Loki, at a table, a half-empty glass of wine in front of him. The trickster’s bluish-green eyes carefully studied the partygoers, watching their every move. A blonde white woman spilt her wine on her white shoe. A brunette man had almost tripped on himself. It was interesting to Loki for the first five minutes, but then it got dull.

   Every once in awhile, a nameless guest would make their way towards them. Perhaps out of pity, or to make themselves feel good about possibly comforting the man at the table. But Loki didn’t need comforting first of all, especially not comforting that was only done for some sort of mental goodness points.

   But he saw how they acted, how they immediately strayed away upon recognizing. How they’d make their way away from him. How they’d look behind their shoulder, and always have their eyes on him as if he were some sort of volcano ready to erupt.

   Those who attempted to ask some sort of variation of “Are you alright?” would look at him as if they wanted to exit the conversation as quickly as possible.

   And what sort of question was that? Of course, Loki ~~Laufeyson~~  Odinson ~~wasn’t~~ was alright. Why wouldn’t he be? 

   Unfamiliar tunes played in the background, some of which he surprisingly enjoyed but just wouldn’t admit it to himself. He didn’t want to be labeled with “Britney Spears” fan. Of course, Loki was unaware that being a fan of Britney Spears was a blessing, and not a curse. 

   Loki looked down at his hands, fiddling with them, and picking at the skin near his nails out of boredom. He was hot, all the people in here made him feel claustrophobic, and he wanted to go home. But he didn’t truly have “home” anymore. But Loki hasn’t had a real home in a long, long time.

   The god’s thoughts were interrupted by the slam of a glass of beer on his table, some of the drink spilling as he shot his head up. Staring him down was Brunnhilde, or Valkyrie. Why she went by the title of a job she disconnected herself from rather than her real name was a question that he could not answer.

   ...And she was drunk. He assumed she wasn’t to be a designated driver, whatever that meant. Loki looked up at her, taking a small sip of wine.

   ”Heeey bitch, you’re being a little loser in this corner, aren’t ‘cha? What? Scared of some-“ Valkyrie chugged all of her beer down. Classic Asgardian drinking, he wasn’t phased in the slightest. He had witnessed similar behavior from his brother for centuries.

   “I’m not a heavy drinker, there’s no point going to the facility a stumbling mess. That’d be a safety hazard.” Loki stated, wanting to exit the conversation. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize, or really to exist.

   “I’m not a-“ Brunnhilde was cut off once again, tripping on her own two feet. Loki envied her in a way. He didn’t envy the stumbling and fumbling, but he definitely envied the drunken bliss she was in. But the trickster had too much dignity to get that wasted in public.

   If he even had any scrape of dignity left. He’d probably be much more maudlin, anyways.

   ”I’d assist you, but truly, I don’t care enough to go out of my way to do that.” The trickster said bluntly, staring at the “honorable” valkyrie on the ground blankly. 

   Valkyrie struggled to get up, and when she did, she seemed much more disinterested in conversation. Brunnhilde regained her balance, and leaned against the table for a moment before going to leave, stumbling away.

   The party continued on and on, and every second that passed by, Loki felt even more miserable. And every single drunk person he noticed, the more scared he felt that he’d become this so-called “designated driver” that everyone dreaded. Why they’d designate a monster like him to drive was another question he could not answer.

   Everyone seemed to be having fun. He witnessed two men have a bar fight, that was a lovely sight to watch. The party wasn’t all that bad.

    ~~The party was uncomfortable. He wanted to leave. They stare at him. Everyone stares at him, like he’s a ticking timebomb. There’s never a moment where someone doesn’t have their eye on him. He’s a monster. He wants to leave.~~

The party was fun. 

Why wouldn’t it be?


End file.
